Familiarity
by fascimility
Summary: Hakkai thinks back on his companions and muses.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything. :)

Notes: Apologies if it isn't coherent. An hour and a half. Hakkai thinks back on his companions and muses. For tm challenge: Nostalgia. Comments and criticism welcome.

_**Familiarity**_

The road was bare and dusty, a track beaten out of the ground. Vegetation was sparse and far apart, what miserable clumps there were clung to the ground with a tenacity that bespoke the lack of water. At least there was no cover for any youkai—that in itself was comfort, not much, but comfort nonetheless.

It was days like this that the mind shut off, too weary and tired to think, so it lay back and let the memories run by. After all, the heat numbed the brain and deadened the senses. The silence lapsed into a comfortable one, with no sound save for the thudding of wheels against the dirt.

None of them knew when or how, but somewhere along the journey, they had settled into an easy comfort and trust that was both inexplicable and indefinable.

That meant that although the routine fights and squabbles still happened, and happened frequently, Hakkai could still smile that genteel smile and say that everything was alright and really mean it. That meant too that Sanzo could brandish the gun and use the fan, exerting just enough force to elicit yells and shouts. Sometimes, even the constant grumbling and complaining were but another routine.

If questioned, they would have denied that they even tolerated the rest, save perhaps for Hakkai, but even then the little glint in the emerald eyes would have made anyone think twice. They all knew that what they had was beyond an easy camaraderie oiled by beer; it was forged by pain and trust, and sealed with the promised kiss of death.

Perhaps that was why they slipped so naturally into their friendship, since they lived together, slept together and fought together. There was something about seeing a man in is weakest and darkest moments with all his guts spilling out and his spirit crushed that allowed you to understand him. The easy familiarity that they held with each other shocked many, even them; but then again, that had just happened.

It had only been close to a year, yet they felt that they had a friendship that ran longer and deeper than that. Something seemed oddly familiar; but when they got down to hunting for it, it dissipated like a wisp of cigarette smoke, leaving the lingering fragrance behind.

Sometimes during the long arduous travel along endless dusky roads that winded to the horizon, Hakkai's mind would wander away from the maps and compasses, preferring to look instead at the swirling golden dust and amber sky stretching into the distance. The smile would play along his lips and then he would just sit there and chuckle quietly, hands gripping the steering wheel and foot on the accelerator.

Hakkai's thoughts moved very quietly, gently bubbling to the surface from unconscious depths. The thoughts dwelt on memories and on the past, flitting over the painful parts and blotting them silently out, editing and cutting like a movie censor. That was why Hakkai smiled so much. He never let his mind think too much of the past.

Hakkai thought of beautiful flowers, blooming and gentle, unfurling petals delicate and iridescent. He remembered the place where it was always spring and where the sun shone gold indefinitely, the wind against his cheek. He managed to see too, the cherry blossoms falling from their branches, in blizzards of pink and white, covering the ground like a blanket. He remembered an ethereal beauty to it, unspoiled by the world. 

Maybe it had been Kanan.

People said that when people were in love, everything seemed perfect. But Hakkai felt it a place detached from the earth, so unlike the blood and death that marred his fiancée. But perhaps it was Kanan after all.

Hakkai felt that he had known Gojyo for a long time already. Gojyo had breathed life back into his limp battered body, cared for him, cured him, lived with him, tolerated him. Hakkai loved Gojyo's casual recklessness, his rampant drinking and shameless flirting; He knew the feel of shiny black leather against his skin and taste of tobacco in his mouth, bitter and fragrant. He knew too, the taste of the finest sake, sipped slowly, flavour intoxicatingly good. He knew how Gojyo slept, always to one side or stretched flat out when he was tired. He remembered sleepy brown eyes turned to his, clouded with sleep yet oddly beautiful. Maybe they were Kanan's.

He couldn't be sure. After all, he had known Gojyo for so long.

He remembered too, endless corridors, white and prefect, empty and echoing. The sound of heavy boots tramping down the marble. He tried to place them somewhere, somewhere he had been before or visited, maybe went to sometime. It could have been the look of the roads at night, when the dust had settled down and the road was an ivory satin ribbon strewn on the mountains and when the light of the moon painted to scenery a silver monochrome, sapping the colour out to a bone ash. The deserted roads might have been the corridors and the sound of boots the solitary sound of the engine in the night. Maybe.

Hakkai could imagine Sanzo's frown and grunt in his head; so familiar he was with the presence of the monk. He seemed to know the tenderness underlying the bitter façade, and understand the man's need for solitude. Somehow he didn't think of Sanzo as being a monk, more of someone else, higher ranking, wielding more power. Hakkai was closer to Sanzo than anyone else, since Sanzo rarely spoke about himself, and between the three, Hakkai was closest in his experience. He was sure they shared more than rainy nights.

Goku was familiar too, the way the boy radiated boundless energy and zest. Hakkai felt that that cheerful smile had existed and the hungry stomach growled for longer. The chains nagged at his mind too, since Goku had no chains, the closest being the limiter on his head. But the drag and rattle seemed oddly familiar; perhaps they were his, when he surrendered himself after the massacre.

The sky was darkening. In the horizon there came a cloud rushing over, one solitary cloud the size of heaven, a grey unrelenting mass that blanketed he skies. It inched over, and before he knew it, it started to snow.

It started out as nothing but a light fluff, but soon progressed to a heavy blizzard; hailstones and whipping wind. Hakkai slammed down on the accelerator, pushing Jiipu forward through curtain of snow. It was blindingly, freezing cold.

Hakkai heard the curses from the backseat, where Gojyo and Goku were shouting; Gojyo's deeper voice yelling for the monkey to keep quiet and hold on to something else, just not him, and Goku's slightly higher one protesting that holding on to anything would do, as long as he didn't fall off. Hakkai laughed quietly, observing Sanzo out of the corner of his eye as the monk simply folded his arms and frowned amongst the falling snow.

"What are you laughing about?" Hakkai heard Sanzo say, his voice half drowned out by the snow and wind.

"…us."

"Really. Concentrate on driving." And Hakkai heard more than that, since there were words not spoken yet said, silent between them.

"Sanzo…"

"What?"

"How long have I known you?"

"…"

"A lot longer than this, isn't it?"

"Make sure you don't crash."

Hakkai swerved violently, making an about turn. The backseat occupants made sounds of dissent that were rapidly cut off as the jeep slammed into motion again.

Perhaps it was better not to think about things past, since they were but memories, as unreliable and ephemeral as the falling snow. Spring would come, and the snow would melt, leaving nothing but the crystal water that would soon vanish. There was no point thinking back, because the then was so much like now, and really there wasn't much difference.

Except maybe the events and the time, but try as he might, he liked the present more. It was happier, more vivid, and more real. If heaven might grant him a last wish should death strike, then Hakkai would wish for now to become next time, since the past was as good as the present, if not better.

Hakkai laughed, there and then, right through the snow and pounding hail; a quiet, polite laugh that seemed genuinely amused.

The End

04/06/2004


End file.
